PVRIS
by gigigirl16
Summary: A story about a wide-eyed girl, a fetching fellow, and a spellbinding city. Follow Gigi and her friends around the elegant neighborhoods of Paris and their encounters with a boy-band who just might make it big.
1. Chapter 1

Paris was my true love that showered me with kisses and vintage couture hugs. It's been about half a year since I left home for this adventure and I would be lying if I said I felt a little unsure at times. Who wouldn't be doubtful though? I'm 19 years old running away from the drama of a bad, bad breakup and my life in general, I guess. But I couldn't have asked for a better partner in this.

I'm still talking about the city of light, of course. I'm dazzled by the winding streets and the unique arrondissements {districts}. Though my Marc Jacobs wallet is sometimes lacking in a certain green (or in this case, multi-colored euro) department, I can honestly say that I've never been happier in my entire life. I am falling head over Jimmy Choo heels for my classes at the Sorbonne University and my French is improving, dieu merci {thank God}.

Now we need to talk about the people in this city. The personalities range from super attractive models and actresses, to smokers in the streets, to prestigious women dressed to the nines, to graffiti artists looking for their next easel, to obvious tourists, to hipsters clawing for something new to start trending, and to the classic beret-wearing, bicycle-riding frenchie.

Though I've met some weirdos, I've also made some pretty great friends. My roommate, Ellie, is like me, as in she's American, hilarious, and easy to get along with. Having her as a roomie has definitely improved the whole moving situation. Living away from home has been pretty rough. I hardly speak to my family anymore. It just brings back all of the pain. And I definitely don't call him anymore.

Right, I was talking about Ellie. Well, she's great. After classes we walk to a little cafe down the road to our apartment, and she takes AMAZING pictures. She's studying photography, au fait, {by the way} and she really has talent.

Sadly, I was all alone today. Ellie has family in Switzerland she's visiting. Sitting alone in the cafe, even though I was sipping a delicious cappuccino, brought all of the memories surging back. Suddenly, my head felt like it was filling up with water. I felt really hot all of a sudden and out of breath. I raced out of the delicatessen to get some air. That was when Paris reached out to me.

The streets were so crowded and I felt as if I was drowning in a sea of people. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted a phone booth, my red refuge. Safely enclosed, I caught my breath. Once I felt back to normal I was caught. I was eye to eye to the only connection I had to my past.

Without thinking, I grabbed the exact change and dialed. I could hear my pulse in my ears as it rang.

"Hello?"

He had picked up. He sounded exactly the same. I wondered if my voice had changed, if I picked up the charming French accent, and if that would make him miss me.

"...Hello?"

But he doesn't miss me. And it kills me that I miss him. I hate him because I miss him.

"Hello?..."

I hung up and at the same moment started to cry. Many moments passed. I was shrunken on the damp ground, completely wrung dry, like a raisin. I know, not my most glamorous of analogies, but hey I did not feel glamorous at all in that moment. I felt, to myself, like a broken record. Why was I acting like my worst self where I have the opportunity to live my life to the fullest. I had all the freedom in the world. My happiness was so near I could feel it {foreshadowing ;)}. So I straightened my skirt and told myself not to think of him.

Turning out of the booth, I pushed open the door, but i was stopped short.

"Christ!"

A silvery voice cut through the air, sounding raspy and pretty annoyed.

"I'm so sorry!" I said automatically.

He looked up, rubbing his forehead. There was a red mark, but that didn't distract me in the slightest from his emerald green eyes. The annoyance in his eyes and voice immediately faded away.

"Completely my fault," he said with a smirk.

He was so utterly British, almost to the point of annoyance. He was the complete stereotype. He was wearing a goddamn trench coat, pour l'amour du ciel {for Heaven's sake}.

I immediately thought that he was possibly the most attractive man I had ever seen. I almost blurted it out, but I seemed to recover some self control. Instead I politely smiled back.

"Honestly thought I wasn't looking where I was going," I said quickly, looking down embarrassed.

"Well, if I had to get hit in the face, I'm glad it was by someone as enchanting as you," he said charmingly. Of course, I blushed profusely.

"Je suis Gigi," I said with a little curtsy.

"Louis," he grinned brightly, reaching out for my hand. "A pleasure."

I felt a shift then. In that moment, as our hands touched. I felt something shoot through my veins like a drug. I could sense how I made him feel and I think he knew the same of me by the way he scratched his stubbly chin.

We were caught in a moment, then, by a onlooking woman balancing new purchases on her wrists. She had a look of astonishment in her eyes. I noticed her presence before the handsome man in front of me did.

"Well, well, well. Louis, what do we have here?" The woman asked with a perfectly arched brow. He turned around in surprise.

"Oh, hey Grace," he began. "This is Gigi. We just, quite literally, ran into each other." He chuckled, turning back to me.

"Bonjour," she said in a friendly tone, still looking between Louis and I like we were a pair of shiny, red-soled Christian Louboutin's.

"Grace is an actress. She's landed a role in our music video we're filming here," explained Louis.

Um, what? Apparently my confusion was clearly painted on my face because he laughed a most musical laugh.

"Don't look so scared," his stunning eyes sparkling. He put his hand on my shoulder kindly.

"I-I'm not scared, just surprised," I stuttered.

"Well, don't be. He really isn't as great as the media portrays him," Grace joked punching Louis lightly.

"I've never met a celebrity before," I stated shyly.

Louis turned his attention to me.

"Please, don't think of me as a celebrity. I'm a normal guy, really. To prove it to you, I'm inviting you to a little party my band is throwing," he said with a mischievous smirk.

Grace clapped her hands and squealed a bit.

"Oh you must come! It'll be a ton of fun. And bring anyone you want!" exclaimed the actress. She proceeded to give me a quick hug and continue down the street.

We were alone again.

"I really hope you can come, Gigi," he said hopefully. He noted his number in my phone. He then leaned in my ear and whispered, "Don't make me miss you too much."

He walked past me confidently, blending into the Parisian canvas perfectly. Our meeting left me dazed, and I found waiting for the upcoming party drove me mad. He was a perfect distraction.


	2. Chapter 2

I was in panic mode.

The apartment was a mess. There were shoes and dresses of different colors and design strewn across the floor. A pile of purses worth more than my tuition was lying in the corner of the room. It was the night before Louis' party and Ellie, my roommate, was helping me pick out my outfit, as well as hers, for tomorrow night's event.

We had created probably hundreds different combinations of the articles of clothing at our disposal and Ellie had photographed pretty much all of them. Perks of having a damn talented photographer as your best friend.

We were both exhausted by the end of the show and my self-esteem was sinking as I continued to overthink, as usual.

I couldn't help myself from imagining his daring eyes or his naturally wind-blown hair. He was a character out of a romance novel. My very own fantasy.

Of course he wasn't mine, at least not yet. That Grace girl could have been his girlfriend for all I know and I could've completely imagines his flirtiness.

I realized that the two of us are complete strangers except I know that he is a famous celebrity and gorgeous. I honestly have no idea what I'm getting my well-dressed self into.

With all of these thoughts racing around my head, Ellie and I plopped down on our vintage honey-colored couch in unison. We both stared blankly at the television in front of us, and the sound of my stomach growling broke the silence. I turned sheepishly towards Ellie and we shared the most brilliant of ideas.

Thirty minutes later, El and I were downed in blankets, stuffing our faces with Chinese take-out and Ben and Jerry's Half Baked ice cream (thank God this exists in France), and watching Love Actually.

Boy, did we clean up pretty good.


End file.
